A Choir of Angels Deep Inside My Lungs
by Mia-Zeklos
Summary: "Looking back, it almost seemed like they'd played a game and he hadn't been made aware of the rules until he'd lost."


**Author's Notes: This is a first for me, and this time I'm not sure I did too well with it. Nevertheless, feedback is appreciated.**

As it often was when it came to Shadowhunters, Magnus wasn't sure what they expected of him at first.

It wasn't that Shadowhunters as individuals were mysteries - or, at least, they'd rarely been ones before. But the new ones were different, or so it seemed; instead of a demand for help, Magnus had received a peace offering, and along with it, a promise of something he hadn't seen in a long time.

The firemessage had been short and to the point. It mentioned Clary Fray - the girl whose mother had turned her into his project so many years ago - and her missing memories, and also a necklace - a 'Lightwood family heirloom', as it had been addressed in the letter - that they were willing to give in exchange for them. It had been signed with nothing but J. Wayland with the seal of the New York Institute under it, but other than that, there was no sign that the proper authorities had actually been informed of this mission.

It was definitely unusual. If the situation had been any different, Magnus would have refused them and sent them to a different Warlock; one who wasn't currently busy with the protection of every Warlock in the city and could afford the time to fulfil requests. As it were, the matter was too personal - there was Clary, and Magnus knew that no one but him could bring her memories back, and there was the necklace.

It was all enough to lure him out of his lair and back into the Downworld he'd been avoiding so carefully for months now.

The ritual used to summon the memory demon had gone about as well as Magnus had expected it to. It was so like Shadowhunters to never listen to what they were told; so typical of them to ignore the consequences and just go ahead with whatever they felt was right.

"Are you okay?" Magnus asked in the aftermath of it all, carefully taking in the Wayland boy's still flushed face. He'd calmed down considerably since the several shocked seconds after he'd woken up and was now sitting half-sprawled on the couch in the living room. As far as Magnus could tell, there would be no lasting scars from the demon's clutches, but a few moments of rest had never hurt anybody. Everyone else had found something to do; Clary was still working on closing the pentagram and erasing it - it was still her circle, so she had to be the one to do it - and the Lightwoods had moved to the hallway where Magnus could still hear their hushed discussion. He couldn't quite make out the words, and decided that it was better that way - while everyone was busy with the aftermath of the demon attack, no one could dwell for too long on what had actually happened.

"I've had worse," Jace said, which, Magnus noticed, wasn't really an answer. "They all acted quickly."

Not as quickly as would have been preferable. Magnus tried to keep his criticism to himself, but he always tended to be just a little more prone to critique when it came to Shadowhunters.

"They did," he allowed, "But next time, try not to throw yourself right in the middle of a demon trap."

Not much later, Magnus would learn that his efforts had been futile. No matter what happened, Jace would always throw himself right in the middle of anything if it meant saving the people that mattered.

 **o.O.o**

Things didn't change much after that. The young Shadowhunters danced in and out of Magnus's life, always looking for his help and always leaving everything in a whirlwind after they left, and none of them as much as Jace Wayland. If he didn't know better, Magnus would have thought that the boy was purposefully creating chaos everywhere he went; especially chaos he couldn't deal with without someone else's help. He'd known Nephilim like him before, but not many, and while most of their race seemed to have a death wish, there were just a handful of them that was so intent on it.

It shouldn't have mattered. Long ago, when his adventures in London Institute had passed, Magnus had promised himself that he wouldn't get invested in the business of Shadowhunters, no matter how intriguing they were. This one shouldn't have been any different.

 **o.O.o**

Valentine's ship was in ruins. Burning pieces of it still floated on the surface and Magnus watched them in a daze as the fires slowly went out. He felt as if his fire was going out, too; he hadn't slept in almost three days and the battle had drained whatever was left of his power - both magical and physical.

And still, he knew that he had much more to do before it was all over.

"We have to get back to the Institute," Alec's voice came from behind his back. There were several murmurs of agreement, although no one else could really bring themselves to speak. "Can we Portal there?"

"I can try," Magnus said, not really sure that it was a good idea. There would be even more work for him once they got there; healing runes could only work so far and there were enough injured to fill a decently-sized mundane hospital.

And one of them was worst of all. He chanced a look at Jace who stood by the edge of the boat with his back hunched, iratzes still a startling black against the skin of his arms. He'd never looked worse before and Magnus knew that he'd have to channel every ounce of magic he had left into him before they saw this through.

He did manage the portal, eventually, only to get himself to the hospital wing of the Institute and sink in the first chair that came into his vision.

Jace had been transported there too as soon as they'd found an available bed – and right now, that wasn't a small feat, but everyone in their little group had insisted and having the Head of the Institute on your side was definitely an advantage.

Magnus wasn't sure how long he spent there; he fell asleep himself at one point and the only thing keeping him even remotely awake was the constant stream of people walking in and out of the room.

"Magnus."

Jace's voice was strained and almost too quiet to be heard, but Magnus noticed it immediately. He looked up from where he'd buried his face in his hands and focused on the Shadowhunter where he was still resting on the bed. He still looked terrible – it was clear that he'd gone through too much for Magnus to imagine while he'd been on the Morning Star and a complete recovery would take a while. The thought of that wouldn't translate well, Magnus was sure of that, but the least he could do was try.

"You stayed," Jace continued despite the Warlock's silence and Magnus nodded.

"Of course I stayed," he said. "The Silent Brothers can't do all the work."

"No, I-" For a moment, the Shadowhunter stumbled over his words. "You stayed on the ship. During the battle... I thought you'd only open the Portal."

"Of course I stayed," Magnus repeated, leaning closer in his seat. "Someone had to, because Lilith knows what you'd do next otherwise."

Jace sat up in his bed – even seeing the effort he threw into it almost made Magnus wince – and found it in himself to smile. "I didn't realise you were so involved in my case."

"Yes, you did," Magnus retorted and was pleased to see that there was no protest. Looking back, it almost seemed like they'd played a game and he hadn't been made aware of the rules until he'd lost.

"Yes, I did," Jace said and suddenly, it didn't feel like losing at all.


End file.
